


Breaking the Sweater Curse

by born_awkward2



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ben Solo Doesn't Turn to the Dark Side, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Feels, Armitage Hux Needs A Hug, Badass Rose Tico, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Cinnamon Roll Rey (Star Wars), Complicated Relationships, Devoted Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, F/M, Gingerrose - Freeform, Good Boy Sweater, HEA, How to break the sweater curse, Reylo - Freeform, Snoke Being a Dick (Star Wars), Soft Ben Solo, Some angst, Yarn and Yearning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 19:20:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30077085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/born_awkward2/pseuds/born_awkward2
Summary: Ben Solo is struggling working for Snoke. Then one evening he gets home late and Rey presents him with a hand knit sweater. It could be just the thing he needs to break free.My take on the sweater curse.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Rose Tico, Rey/Ben Solo
Comments: 13
Kudos: 73





	Breaking the Sweater Curse

It was nearly midnight by the time he finished up, sending the documentation straight to Snoke, who would start bombarding him with emails in return about 5 a.m.

“‘Early to bed, early to rise’, young Skywalker,” his mentor always quoted sanctimoniously to justify his expectations of his employees, who must always be on tap, ready to go when he said.

What a pity they were not allowed the same consideration re the early to bed part of the proverb. Still that’s Snoke all over, full of shit. The pity is he didn’t realise it sooner, the trap long brought down on him. Now afraid to lose what he had, because if he left Snoke he sure as hell would find it difficult if not impossible to get another job. Snoke was vindictive like that. It was a speciality of his.

As he closed everything down, he picked up his phone and texted Rey, probably curled up in their bed right now, sleeping his side, wearing something belonging him because, “I miss you Benny, when you’re not here to cuddle into.”

Rey, another part of his problems. He should let her go, this girl with sunshine in her veins and in her smile, which she unleashes on him at the slightest provocation.

He enters a room and Rey’s smile lights up her face at the sight of him. She never grows tired of looking at him, she has confided, he’s a constant source of joy to her. How is this possible?

They are polar opposites, yet they are happy together. A perfect fit, apparently. He always alert, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Snoke tolerates her, knowing that if it came down to a straight choice he’d choose Rey every single time. However, Snoke can be subtle as well as all the other stuff, commending Rey to him for waiting on her high flying boyfriend, plotting a lesser course to suit her boyfriend’s stellar trajectory, _subordinate to his ambition_.

It never fails, when Snoke starts in on this Ben’s anxiety spikes because of guilt. Is he robbing Rey of her agency? Are they not true equals? Is he holding her back? Only Snoke can mess with his mind like this. And Rey, when he offers to break up with her, (though he’s sure it will kill him), Rey just scrunches up her nose in a scowl and says Snoke’s a dick.

He’d tried to break them up initially by getting Ben to transfer to the Coruscant office, with a promotion that would be a stepping stone to his ultimate goal handed him on a plate. His own office, his own department, more money than he’d know what to do with, but about a 300 mile round trip from Rey. Because of Rey’s job, theirs would be a long distance relationship. Disastrous.

He’d been tempted, he couldn’t deny, so he rang Hux who’d made the transition. Hux had been drinking when he made the call, a little after six in the evening, so he was more verbose than usual, more confiding, more selfless.

“Don’t do it, Solo, just don’t do it.” Hux’s voice down the line was tearful and earnest. “Sure the money’s great, the power’s real, but the rest of it sucks. No-one stays married here, you know. They end up having affairs with their secretary’s, separated from their families, their loved ones. It’s just constant pain and heartache ... how’s Rose?”

Rose was Rey’s bestie and a force of nature. She was also the other half of another unlikely pairing. Stick-up-the-ass Armitage Hux, tall, pasty and ginger had fallen for Rose Tico, short, vibrant and fearless, practically from the moment he’d met her. He’d fallen hard.

Everyone had anticipated them getting engaged and getting married, producing 2.4 children in no time at all, and then Snoke had made his move and dangled Coruscant in front of Hux and Hux had taken the bait, breaking Rose’s heart in the process.

Sure, Rose could have gone with him, but her roots were set deep here, loyal in her attachment to her family and friends. Besides, Rose had her own business she was tied into, with responsibility for the livelihoods of others.

“We have enough,” she’d told Armitage, and he’d agreed but went ahead and accepted anyway. Rose had been devastated, that was obvious, but had then closed off, wearing her game face in public and giving the impression Hux was a dead man walking.

So Ben said no to the promotion, and since that day his life had not been his own, Snoke was calling the shots, and Ben, Ben was in too deep to get free.

He checked his phone. No reply from Rey, she must be curled up asleep.

He thought about her on the elevator ride down to the car park, of all the socials he’d missed, of the celebrations he was late attending, all without Rey making complaint, just her inevitable welcoming smile at the sight of him when he eventually turned up full of apologies.

He should let her go, it was selfish to keep her, but he was a coward about that too. He sighed as he opened his car door, the Silencer’s beep as he clicked the key fob echoing around the empty featureless grey walls of the car park.

Anyway, it may not entirely be his call. He had noticed Rey was distracted these last weeks, as loving as ever but as if her mind was elsewhere. Her smile perfunctory when first she saw him, before she shook off her mood of introspection.

Was some other guy making a move on her? Was she conflicted? He should tell Snoke to shove his deadlines and set his working hours in stone. But he didn’t, and loathed himself for his cowardice.

He tried not to rattle the key in their apartment door, although Rey slept like a dead thing. She would find him though, even in sleep, seeking out his warmth as if by osmosis until she was curled around him, his own arms curling around her, keeping her safe.

He’d not been able to sleep properly since childhood, until he met Rey. The deep sleep he experienced safe in her arms until his alarm went off at 5 a.m. was the only reason he stayed sane as he strove to fulfil Snoke’s expectations of him. Another evidence of the grace he daily received of Rey, unearned and undeserved like all good gifts and perfect presents.

He toed off his shoes and laid his keys down quietly on the hall table. There was a light showing in the living room, soft lamplight and a flickering tv screen playing to itself. Bathed in this light was Rey, curled up on their couch clutching something to her as she slumbered on.

He laughed softly at the sight, while noting her skin was pale. He needed to take a vacation and carry her off for a winter break. That meant a confrontation with Snoke. If he could do it right now, in this moment, he wouldn’t hesitate.

Leaning over the back of the couch, he put out a hand to stroke her hair, dark and glossy, the texture soft and silky, the result of her practicing his daily hair care routine. She stirred.

“Ben?” Her voice was sleepy, give her a minute and she’d go back under.

“It’s me, sweetheart, go back to sleep and I’ll put you to bed.”

“No,” she was lifting herself up on her elbows. She’d thieved one of his sweaters, he saw. A crumpled bundle clutched in her hands.

“Ben, I finished it. I waited up so I could show you.” He could see her fighting the sleep befogging her senses.

“Sweetheart, hush. Tell me tomorrow, you need your sleep.”

“No,” she was shaking her head stubbornly, “tell you now. I meant to wrap it, but here it is.”

She’d risen to her knees, kneeling on their couch holding something out to him. He frowned, what was so special about one of his sweaters that she’d tried to wait up?

He turned it in his hands, aware of its thick, soft texture and her expectant look as she rubbed sleep from her eyes.

Understanding came, it was a hand knit sweater knitted in some soft material. Soft like the expensive cashmere sweaters he ordered two at a time, always in black.

His vision was suddenly blurry and he understood her uncharacteristic distraction of late. He always let her know when he was on his way, and she must have hidden it away, this work of her hands, no doubt worrying, if he knew her, whether it was good enough to give it him when it was finished. Wishing it was better, that she was better, when all the world knew she was perfection personified.

If he hadn’t been so late, if she’d not fallen asleep, he doubted he’d have seen the finished article, for already she was making excuses for her masterpiece, her latest good gift and perfect present. Explaining why it should be better, how she could make it better, given time.

He draped it over the back of the couch, reaching over and picking her up. She squeaked and lifted up her legs to clear the back of the couch.

“It’s perfect,” her legs were wrapped around his waist now, her face inches from his, “it’s perfect like you’re perfect. Perfect like I don’t deserve you perfect.”

“Hey,” her voice was low and chiding, “I know _you’re_ perfect, so just stop.” The backs of her hands were caressing his cheeks, a loving expression on her face.

“Ok. I’m going to take you to bed now and worship your perfect body.”

She let out a trill of laughter, “Deal, and i’ll worship yours.”

Seeing they were in full accord, he carried his prize off to bed and did just that.

She was snoring softly when he slid out of bed, walking into the living room in his boxer shorts and putting the tv to sleep. He picked up his sweater and examined it under the direct light of one of the lamps. It _was_ perfect.

Inside she’d sewn a label, ‘Handmade With Love’. It had the logo of a ball of yarn with two knitting pins stuck through it. Like the ball of yarn she’d left lying on their couch.

He picked up a discarded paper band which revealed the yarn to be a blend of cashmere and silk. So that’s why it felt so soft. She must have spent quite a few of her hard earned dollars to buy this, given the chest size she was knitting for. He reached out and lifted the sweater crafted with such love and pulled it over his head and down his body. A perfect fit. He could even turn the sleeves back to make a cuff.

Smoothing it out, he went in search of his phone and sat himself down. Ok, what he was going to do next would change the whole course of their lives, his and Rey’s. Here, in the wee small hours, he searched his heart and truly knew himself, purging himself of Snoke’s indoctrination.

He pulled up his mail app and wrote his resignation from First Order, effective immediately. Without hesitation he pressed send.

He was going to switch his phone to ‘do not disturb’, but thought better of it. He texted his parents, then Hux, then switched his phone off.

Shit would hit the fan, but he and Rey had a lot of talking to do - and he had a lot of apologising to do to her. Then they could go buy the ring and make marriage plans. Whatever Rey wanted. A big wedding wasn’t his idea of a good time, but if was Rey’s choice ... his mom would be ecstatic.

He turned out the lights and schlepped back to bed. Rey had hogged his side, snuggled down into the meagre warmth he’d left in the mattress. He grinned, sliding into her side, still wearing his sweater, getting comfy and starting a slow count down from a hundred.

His grin grew a little wider when he got to forty five and a slim leg was slung over him and small hands grabbed handfuls of his ‘good boy’ sweater, trying to pull him against her.

“Hey,” he protested, “careful.”

A little more wriggling and then his arms were full of girl. He kissed the top of her head and closed his eyes, his arms wrapped around her, rocked into sleep by the lullaby of his sweetheart’s soft snores. Tomorrow was going to be a good day.

+++++

It was the downtime between the morning rush for coffee and pastries and lunchtime rush for coffee and sandwiches when Rose heard the bell of her bakery door jingle. She came from out back with a welcoming smile on her face which changed to a set, stony look.

Armitage Hux stood the other side of her counter, looking like shit it must be said.

Her fists clenched tight, he couldn’t help but notice.

He tried for a smile, drawing attention to his pale face and the dark shadows under his eyes. He’d lost weight too. Rose’s expression did not change. She did not speak, just gave him the same unchanging _dead behind the eyes_ glare.

His hair was longer and flopped forward over his face, and he clearly hadn’t shaved for a couple of days. If Rose felt any compassion at all for his sorry state she didn’t show it.

He made a little hopeless movement with his hands and shuffled his feet, clearing his throat.

“Rosie, I don’t expect you to forgive me. I don’t. Truly,” his voice broke with emotion.

Drawing in a deep breath, he began again, “I’ve left First Order, I’ve left Snoke, and I made it so I can never go back.”

The words hung between them. He thought he saw a tremor pass over her face like she was going to cry, but Rose never cried.

“Ok,” her voice eventually broke the loaded silence between them, low and husky, “we can talk.”

**Author's Note:**

> ps I did make presents of hand knit sweaters to my then boyfriend, who I subsequently married - but I got my mother to knit them!


End file.
